Sit Boy!
by Meztli14
Summary: Edward Cullen. Mr. Bigshot. He has it all. Money. Cars. Girls. He's invincible. Well, not anymore. A higher power has a lesson to teach him. FOR ADOPTION! SEE AUTHOR'S NOTE OR MY PROFILE!
1. Introduction

Oh happy day! Two intros of two stories in a matter of minutes. Hehe…here is the intro for Sit boy. I actually got the idea for this story from a dream I had. I thought about making it an original but decided not too.

Summary:

Edward Cullen. Mister Bigshot. He has it all. Money. Cars. Girls. He's invincible. Well, not anymore. A higher power has a lesson to teach him. Who would have thought that being demoted down a few species would be so beneficial to one's outlook on life! **A/N:** If you are sketchy about belief in a 'higher power' then don't read this. It has some reference to a 'higher power' but if you are offended easily, then don't read this one. It's just my belief (I'm Christian). And also, if you are a member of EDC, INC on the Twilight Lexicon forum, then some of you may have read the larger summary I typed out. Don't spoil the surprise!

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Yeah, the idea of a higher power we be mention but very loosely. So if you do take offense to the idea, I suggest you not read Sit Boy. This is an all human story and am really excited for it because I have everything pretty much planned out. I'll have to see how everyone receives this story. Here comes the prologue!!!


	2. Prologue

Settling into a comfortable position, I listened to the sounds filtering in from the window. Birds chirping, a few car honks, and children laughing from across the street. Getting up, making sure not to wake the sleeping form next to me, I made my way to the window, peering outside.

The park was moderately populated, as it was eleven in the morning on a Sunday, the perfect time for play. Three children busied themselves in the sand box, one girl helping a little boy create a castle from the loose sand while the other was making a trench. Two girls, identical twins, were laughing in delight as both their parents pushed them on the swings, smiling at the sight of their daughters.

On the playground itself, roughly nine children were running up and down the walkways, screaming in delight as they chased each other around, while the parents or babysitters watched from the benches. On the sidewalk just beyond the boundaries of the play area, two siblings, one older boy, around eight years old, was gently pushing a smaller girl, maybe five and obviously his sister, on a small bike. He shouted in victory when she managed to pedal a few feet by herself. She stopped after five feet and turned to him, her face alight with wonder.

But it was the sight in the background behind them that caught my attention. Two people, a couple resting at a bench, were what interested me. The man was standing, looking down at his wife while she rested on the bench. Next to them was a blue stroller and in her arms was the occupant.

My new body's eyesight was superior to that of my human's and I could see the details of the child. He was small, maybe a few months old, with a head full of brown wisps and a laugh so musical it could bring joy to anyone who could hear it. The parents sure did. The mother was looking down at her child in pure awe and entrancement. The husband seemed to radiate pride and happiness. His eyes bounced between his son's smile and his wife's face in wonder. I could feel my own longing as I watched them.

Abandoning the image, I turned around and walked toward the bed. Brown chestnut hair spilled across the pillow like seaweed while bed sheets twisted around soft, pale legs. Her lips were parted slightly, the lower slightly more fuller then its counterpart, her eyebrows relaxed amidst her dreaming. I was in love with this woman but I could never have her.

Besides, I doubt she would want anything to do with me if I was still in my human form; I was not what she wanted in a man. Or more what I **use** to be. Since she had arrived into my life, I'd made discoveries that had been hidden to me before. My own loneliness and selfishness; how I had been achieving nothing in my previous existence. I neglected so many people and looked down on plenty. I had been so absorbed in my own life, I failed to see what was around me.

I was most ashamed of my past conquests. So many women but I had held no love for them. Just a outlet for my sexual tension. And it would seem, now that I've finally found someone to love, I could do nothing about it. That was when I knew that she deserved better. Far more than what I could give her, if anything at all. But I still had her, even if we were just friends in the strangest of ways. I had that to be thankful for.

Yes, if there was one thing I found out about myself, it was that I was unthankful. I had parents, while many didn't. I had siblings, while others were lonely. I had a great career and money, while others were homeless and broke. I loved a woman, with a love so powerful it was all consuming, while there were people who only dreamed of such a thing.

Jumping lithely on the bed, I laid down next to my love without touching her, not wanting to wake her with the heat of my body. She inhaled deeply, before letting it out and rubbing her face against the pillow, falling deeper into slumber. I could feel the love running through me, watching her bite her lip and give a contented sigh, her breathing even and shallow.

There was a good chance I would never return to my previous life, never to be human again. But gazing at the one reason why the world was created gave me no desire to return to that way of life. It would mean losing her. And if I could love her in this form, be with her as her loyal friend, then there was no reason to go back. I would stand by her side, knowing I was capable of protecting her. Becoming this…creature had lead me to her, and for that, I'm so thankful.


	3. Who is E Cullen?

**Okay kids, Here is chapter 1 of Sit Boy! I got a few reviews, saying that this had promise so I figured why not. Now you'll have to excuse the first couple of chapters of Sit boy as I don't have the beginning planned out as detailed as I do for the middle and end. So if it seems kinda 'whatever' sorry. I promise it'll get better later on when I really get into this. Shout out to my crew at the Lexicon forum, Emmett's Demolition Crew, INC and shout out to Urcoolcarrie. Have a go and tell me what you think!**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own the twilight saga at all. Some shirts and a few story plots but that's it.**

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"Hey Edward, Mr. Denali left a message about the meeting-" I stopped him before he uttered another word.

"What have I told you before?" I lashed at him. I was sitting at my desk, looking out my office window to appreciate the beautiful view of the city night life, when he poked his head through my door. I slowly turned my head to look at him. His whole body was standing in my doorway, his eyebrow slightly furrowed. He was wearing dark blue slacks with a white dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, accompanied by a tie colored with various tones of shaded blue. He must have his overcoat on the back of his chair. I appraised him for a moment.

He had been working at my building for four years now. He was a graduate from Dartmouth with various degrees in business management, financial management, and the works. To have this type of high paying job at such a young age was refreshing. It could also be awkward, considering your boss and the CEO/founder of Cullen Corp. was two years younger than yourself. At twenty-five, he didn't appear that age. He had this weird loose 'honey-blonde' hair, as described by Lauren, with 'cerulean tinted eyes,' more of Lauren's quoting. I personally believed him to be gay, at least with those looks. I mean really, no one can pull that off. Well, no one except me.

But I was curious about the silver wedding band that had appeared on his finger three years ago. There weren't too many details on the mysterious wife. Many of the employees just commented on her beauty. Important information like a name was somehow lost in the exchange.

The description in itself was vague. Beauty was one of the first things out of their mouths when voicing their impression of her. Other attributes followed. Short black hair, flawless white skin, light almond-colored eyes and a bit on the short side apparently. It must be quite a sight to see them together. From what I've been told, she's a few inches short of reaching the five foot mark while he was well over six feet tall. Quite the match.

Of course, anytime I entered the room these murmurings all stopped instantly. It was…strange. Why not speak of this woman in front of me? Apparently, when asked this, they all replied that they didn't want 'The Husband' to know, considering 'The Husband' was my assistant. Supposedly, she came to the building to visit him but I've yet to see her. Hmm, interesting.

"Well?" I asked again, as he had yet to reply to my question.

"Not to call you Edward." Yes, that was correct.

Time and time again, for the past three years, my assistant…what was his name? Casper? Casper…Flintlock? I think that's it. Well, either way, that man has been trying to talk to me about the most random of things. Sports, restaurants, cars, housing, even children! It's all 'what do you think about this?' He sounded like a psychiatrist. I mean, I don't see the man outside of work.

But yet, his attempts at calling me by my first name was futile as I always reminded him that it was 'Mr. Cullen,' whether on or off the clock. It was intriguing to me how every time I chasten him about addressing me as Edward, he always seemed…sadden. Like it was a bad thing he couldn't call me by my first name. Of course, I didn't have a clue why he even felt that way. I didn't have any ties to him. There was no reason to call me anything but Mr. Cullen. In fact, he was using that face right now.

"My apologies, Mr. Cullen." He seemed embarrassed, but awfully polite-to a point in which it annoyed me.

"You were saying?" I continued, wanting to get the conversation going. It was awkward, having him just stand in my doorway. And it was almost time to leave. I did have places to be, like Carrie's house for example.

He stood straighter and nodded. "Mr. Denali left a message regarding the possible merger. He would like to set up a meeting with you to discuss the formalities."

Mr. Denali, huh? The founder of the impressive Denali Industries. The father of one very…_friendly_ strawberry-blonde twenty-one year old daughter. Too friendly for words. She seemed rather familiar with attempting to seduce her father's business associates. She was much too sultry and Russian for me. What was her name again...Tammy? Tara? Whatever it was, it was too much for me. Or maybe I was too much for her? An old colleague once told me I got around more than a jogger in Central Park. My thoughts flashed back to Mr. Denali again. Yes, I see a lot of good coming from this merger. I took a quick glance to the hands on the face of my watch; it was ten past five. Technically I should be leaving in an hour, but when you're the boss of your own company, quitting time was anytime. Besides, Carrie would be waiting for me, and Lord forbid I let her get lonely.

Sliding out of my chair, I grabbed my suit jacket, slipping my arms through the sleeves. "Why don't we call it a day, Casper," I commented, opening my desk drawer and picking out my cell phone and car keys.

"Umm, it's actually 'Jasper' not 'Casper,'" he spoke quietly, his lips twisted slightly. He tried to make it sound like he wasn't correcting me.

"Jasper, Casper, does it matter? You can't tell me that you don't want to go home. I mean, you have that lovely little wife of yours waiting for you," I teased, winking at him. His eyes instantly glanced down at his wedding band, before clutching his left hand into a fist. Looking back up at me, I discovered his eyes narrowed the slightest bit before widening back to normal.

"Yes, I suppose you're correct, Mr. Cullen."

I nodded in approval and stepped around him to leave. Getting to my apartment would take half an hour, getting ready would take roughly forty-five minutes, and reaching Carrie's place would be about another half a hour. So, if my calculations were correct, it would be a little after seven when I would arrive. Let's try to make that a bit earlier.

While waiting for the elevator, I waved behind me. "Goodnight Mr. Flintlock," I called out. Stepping into the elevator, I loosened my tie and watched as the elevator doors closed just as the words, "It's not Flint-" were cut off.

The ride between the twelfth floor and the garage was smooth. No one was suppose to be leaving for another hour, but I had an important 'meeting' and I certainly didn't want to be late.

In the underground garage, my footfalls echoed off the cements walls and bounced further into the sea of parked cars. Luckily my car was the closest to the elevator. Lifting my hand, I pressed the 'unlock' button on the remote; the lights of my Volvo flashing.

I loved my Volvo; or Volvos in general. I have always felt a strange draw to them. As much as I loved the newer models, nothing could take that special place in my heart reserved for the S60 R series. Yes, my first car. Silver. Given as a gift for my sixteenth birthday. I flung the door open and sat down in the crisp, cool, leather seat. It felt natural, as always. My Volvo was a part of me.

I loved how the music could be set perfectly attuned to my ideal volume and bass. The tinted windows allowed for privacy and shade from sunny days. The backseat was quite convenient. Wide, spacious, great support, and once again, those tinted windows helped to keep peeping toms guessing. But tonight I wouldn't be using my backseat.

Reaching my apartment in twenty minutes, I rid myself of suit and briefcase, urging toward my bathroom for a quick shower. I squirted bits of cologne before slipping on the black button-down shirt and running a hand through my hair. All ready.

Opening the closet door for a jacket, my cordless phone in the kitchen rang. _Oh, could be Carrie_. But alas the caller ID said otherwise. Whitlock, J. Them again. Every Friday night this number called my house, never leaving messages, for the past six months. In the last two months, however, the calls had changed from every Friday to every other week. I was hoping they would stop all together. I ignored the ringing and proceeded to extract a coat from the closet. Time to go.

Walking out of my apartment, I waltzed over to the elevator, pressing the 'down' button as I waited for it to make a beeline for my floor. A ding was heard and the gold doors opened, revealing an empty car. _Well, just my company then._ Riding the platform down to the lobby, I was greeted by Aiden Kramer, the doorman of the apartment building.

"Good Evening, Mr. Cullen. Going out?" he asked politely. He knew of my womanizing ways but never spoke of it.

"Why yes, Mr. Kramer. I am heading out," I spoke back. Aiden nodded and waved his hand, motioning toward the street. "Would you like a cab, sir?"

I thought it over quickly. I wouldn't be staying for long and really didn't want to deal with starting my car, in the chance that Carrie would wake up. Best to take a stealthy approach. Besides, there was a game tomorrow.

"Yes, if you please, Mr. Kramer."

He nodded and whistled a high tone, signaling a taxi from down the block. I studied Kramer for a few minutes. He was forty-three, a single father to his twelve year old daughter, Abigail, the apple of his eyes. Recently, Abigail had been getting sick lately and would be going to the hospital tomorrow. He was very concerned but kept back his emotions to himself while on the job. It was not his place to tell his life story to other people, as he saw it. I really did hope his daughter was okay. That girl was all he had.

"Here you are Mr. Cullen. Will that be all?" He asked, opening the cab door for me. I smiled and shook my head, extending out my hand to him, a hundred dollar bill resting in my palm. "Thank you Mr. Kramer."

His eyes widened and he looked like he was gonna protest. I had offered him money countless times before and he had argued with me with great reluctance. But this time, his eyes held something akin to defeat as he took it from me. I could feel my eyebrow furrow at his easy acceptance. This was not like him. Slowly I got in and watched as he closed the car door.

"Have a safe night Mr. Cullen," he murmured. There was something definitely off with him. He was good at hiding his emotions, but I saw that look of defeat and…helplessness in his eyes before it was gone. I put it in the back of my mind as I told the cabbie Carrie's address and gazed out the window. Wait, I should give her a head start. Pulling out my cell phone, I dialed her number.

"Hello?"

"Hey, babe, it's me. Are you ready for tonight?" I asked in a purr. The cabbie glanced out me from his rear view mirror but thought nothing of it. He must be use to weird sex talk, this was the city after all. I could hear the sharp intake of breath on her end before she let out a low moan.

"Just walk right in," was her response before the line went dead. I smiled and secured the phone in my front pocket. The drive was not overly long, fifteen minutes at the most, before the taxi paused in front of a brick house, the lights all off. I paid the man and listened as he drove off, leaving me gazing at the wooden door. Not stopping my stride, I walked up the steps and gripped the doorknob, twisting it. It wasn't locked, just like she said.

Entering and closing the door, I turned the dead bolt and marched toward the steps that headed upstairs. Carrie's bedroom was off to the right, the door closed with a slight glow streaming from the crack at the bottom. Not wasting a minute, I gripped the knob and swung the door to its fullest arc, revealing candles lit throughout the room and finding Carrie lying atop her bed, clothed only in a black lace number. Her eyes were lidded, cloudy with lust.

"Edward…" she groaned, her legs rubbing against each other seductively before running a hand through her hair. I could feel the animal in me growl as I made my way toward her, slamming the bedroom door with my foot as I went.

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**I'm kinda 'meh' about this chapter. I really wish I could skip all this but nope, I can't. So people review and tell me what you think. Chapter two is half way done. ANd maybe two more chapters after that is when the good stuff happen. So you know what to do. READ AND REVIEW!!!!!! Please? UPDATE07/30: I have completed the second chapter of Sit Boy but it's with Carrie, my beta. I haven't received it back so give me a few days. But do keep an eye on this story.**


	4. Morning After

**This is Mez presenting chapter 2 of Sit Boy! *breaks out confetti* Mamooska!-addams family reference. I dedicate this chapter to my fellow workers at EDC over on the lexicon Fatima, Raven, Ted, and also a very persistent, not to mention anonymous, reviewer by the name of Page Turner. So, Page, are you happy now? Better be. I expect a good review for this. So I've decided maybe I should just do one chapter at a time for one story at a time. I still need to work on Invitation to Freedom. That one needs to be re-written. Maybe that'll be my next project. And some of my originals too. Hmm. But either way, here is chapter two of Sit Boy! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: **No, I don't own the Twilight Saga. I wish but no.

**Beta****: **urcoolcarrie AKA Carrie

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I winced and held still, looking over at Carrie's sleeping form. Her blond hair was twisted and splayed across her pillow; a few strands streaking across her forehead. Her breathing remained even and shallow. The creak of the hardwood floor didn't faze her. I stretched my arm out the last few inches to retrieve my shirt from under the bed. It was roughly eight thirty in the morning, with a taxi coming to pick me up in ten minutes.

Tossing my shirt back on, I tip-toped out of Carrie's room, careful to shut the door quietly before slinking down the stairs. Using the extra key I had snatched from the key rack positioned in the kitchen, I locked the front door behind me, tossing the house key back into the house through the mail slot, where it would sit on her doormat so she could find it when she awoke.

I waltzed down the block before settling onto a bus bench, the pick-up spot I had told the cabbie about. The sky held no hint of night, the sun above the horizon. Summer meant for early sunrises.

Today was Saturday, a time for relaxing. To go home and watch the baseball game while drinking a beer. Ah, baseball. The one thing evenly matched with my love for women. Maybe even higher. Well, I take that back, they are just about the same.

My head snapped over to my left at the sound of a loud bark. Down the block, coming my way, was a tall brunette, hair in a sloppy yet sexy bun. She was wearing faded blue shorts, stopping mid-thigh, and a white cotton tank top. I love summer. I felt the urge to go over and introduce myself but the creature at the end of the leash in her hand made me think otherwise.

I didn't know the exact breed of the dog, or if he was a mutt, but he was rather large. He reminded me of a cross between a pit bull and mastiff. His walk was confident, his head held high in the air. He had a massive skull, no doubt containing muscles for his jaws. His coat short, colored fawn with slight black guard hairs along his spine and sides, shadowing a phantom saddle shape on his back. All in all, very intimidating. **[Link to pic of dog in a/n at end of chapter.]**

The woman was getting closer and her eyes lifted up, catching my own. Unable to resist myself, I smiled at her, knowing which of my smirks would have her panting with want. And to my immense delight, I saw the gleam in her eyes and a coy smile of her own graced her features. I've got her, now just to reel her in.

I stood up, walking toward her, that same panty-dropping smile in place. But as if he could sense my intentions, the dog charged forward at me, all the while a deep resounding, not to mention unnerving, growl emanated from his throat.

We both stopped at once, the woman's face displaying shock and embarrassment at her dog's actions. The aforementioned canine stopped a meter away from me, his feet planted squarely with his shoulders, tail stiff, staring at me with a powerful gaze that nearly made me wet myself.

_Take one step closer and you're dead,_ was what he seemed to be saying to me; low grumbles were continuously filtering out his chest. And I knew he would make good on that promise.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Luka isn't usually like this. No Luka, bad dog," she reprimanded, tugging at his leash to get his attention. He responded immediately, turning away from me to sit right at her feet, his whole body turned in my direction, eyes trained on my face. He may seem at peace but both the woman and myself could hear the faint menacing sounds coming from him. I knew I would go nowhere with her.

"Maybe another time? The name's Edward," I chanced, starting to raise my hand to shake hers, but the volume of Luka's growls intensified and he slowly started to get back up from his sit. _Not a chance, Bub. _That's when I retracted my hand and shoved it in my front pocket.

"Yeah. My name's Briana. I'm really sorry about Luka," she sighed, looking very disappointed. She was probably cursing Luka's name in her head right now. As was I. She gave a tug on his leash, before turning to continue her morning walk. "It was nice to meet you and again sorry about Luka."

I shook my head at her, a reassuring smile on my lips. "It's okay. Least you can be certain you'll never get mugged with him around," I added in a teasing tone. She rolled her eyes and laughed.

"Believe me, I know. A few idiots just don't get it. So, yes, I'm pretty confident on that front," was her reply before she turned on her heel and continued walking in her original direction. All the while, Luka kept looking back at me, watching me. I had the impression that he was making sure I wasn't following.

I sighed deeply when I got back to the bus bench. Briana had since disappeared onto the next block, Luka still looking back at me. Dogs. Ugh. I disliked them to begin with but when one interfered with women, that's when it went to a new level. Like Luka, they seemed to know what I was all about. Of course, I figured it was that 'sixth sense' animals seemed to possess. Most of the time their senses were correct about me. I had dated women who owned dogs. Fluffy or Spot were very aloof and reluctant to let me in their mistress' home. It's not like I was abusive or would purposely hurt their owners, far from it. But nothing I did pacified them, thus in the end, they would win in their goal of getting rid of me.

Three minutes pasted before the taxi arrived, and left, hauling me back to my apartment. The ride back was quiet enough, the taxi driver humming a random melody, the streets quiet despite the number of cars out this early. But it is the city, so there is always something going on. Gazing out the window, my mind seemed else where, coming into focus only when Barnum Park came into view. Children were running wild on the playground while the adults monitored from the sidelines, despite the early hours. If the sun is out, it's playtime.

Speak of the devil, there was a couple playing in the field of grass, a yellow tennis ball shooting between them while a chocolate lab raced back and forth, hoping one of them would drop it. But it was the baseball field that was eye catching. A game was in session. It was evenly matched, both women and men blended. In all this, the taxi came to a red light, letting me observe. The slender figure on the mound drew my eye.

A white hat secured on her head, her brown hair peeking out of the back in the form of a ponytail. She was wearing a white and blue baseball t-shirt with khaki Capri pants and navy blue low-top converses. I caught the end of her pitch but watching the speed of the ball I knew the batter held no chance of catching it. And just like so, the umpire gave a strike-out pump, excusing the batter. Her next adversary was a bit of a worrisome.

The large male, larger than any of the others on either team, stepped up into the box, his bat swinging back and forth, finding his center, waiting as the female pitcher held the ball in her glove, her right hand hidden within it. Watching his movements, I came to the conclusion that he didn't just possess strength; he knew his stuff. The cocky smirk on his face wasn't just for show. It would be sensible of her to throw any high fast ones or fast low outsiders; never allowing him to swing with his behemoth arms.

The umpire gave the 'play ball' signal; the batter instantly holding his bat over his shoulder, the thickest part swaying in a tight circle. The pitcher shook her head twice before nodding to the blond catcher, accepting his signal. Her left leg stepped sideways while her hips turned her upper body to the right, her right foot twisting like her torso. The left leg followed, her knee bending, bringing her thigh parallel to her waist while her two hands that were encasing the baseball, nestled in the ebony leather glove, stayed close to her face, then eased down about a foot above her bended knee. A tight and perfect form of an experienced pitcher.

In the next nanosecond, her left leg started falling. Half way on its path back to solid ground, her two arms separated. The gloved left hand reached toward her large opponent while the baseball-armed right tucked back at her side so that her hand was peeking out past her back, her right shoulder dipping, giving the pitch more momentum. Her left leg straighten itself out, so that her foot pointed to her batter, landing on the ground, bringing all the stored power forward in a wide arc.

For being a fun, harmless game, the speed of that leather sphere had to be at least seventy-five. She really was a skilled pitcher. She had chosen to give a high inside fastball, just on the line of being a ball. The batter swung regardless, a little too late. The ball was already in the catcher's mitt by the time the bat was hovering above home plate. All this transpired within ten seconds.

_Hmm…a worthy opponent._ Not to toot my own horn, but my fastball reached speeds in the nineties. Then again, it's been years since I threw a ball. I could see the catcher nod his head at her before tossing the ball back. The batter waved it off, like it was nothing. As for the pitcher, her shoulders were shaking with laughter. I could feel the corners of my mouth turn up into a genuine smile, my hands twitching to join in the game. The taxi lurched forward, startling me out of my observation. Driving away, I looked over my shoulder, the pitcher winding up for another throw, before the park disappeared behind me.

"Good morning Mr. Cullen," greeted Brandon Solone, waving his hand at me when the taxi parked beside the curb outside my apartment building. He was a lean man, late thirties, with close-cropped black hair, a smile plastered on his face. He was also the morning shift doorman. Brandon had been working at my building for a year and a half now, knowing nearly all the occupants by name.

Exiting the cab, having already given the cabbie his fare, I greeted back my good morning, shutting the door behind me.

"Made it just in time. The game is on in half an hour," commented Brandon, while I passed him on my way in.

"Lucky me," I shouted back, opening the door and walking toward the elevators. The ride up was uneventful. No one was picked up or dropped off, resulting in a quiet trip. Opening the door of my apartment, I had at least twenty-five minutes till the game. A shower was in need. Taking off my shirt, I tossed it in my hamper while poking through my dresser for something comfortable to watch the game in. Choosing some black and white basketball shorts and a white sleeveless shirt, I shed myself of last night's clothes and shut the door of my bathroom, turning the shower on.

By the end of the game, a good three hours later, not to mention a hundred dollars won, I was changing once again to head out to Barnum Park for my midday jog. Nike track pants, dark blue with a vertical band of white down the outer sides of the pants and a new grey sleeveless t-shirt was my regular outfit for such activities. Attaching my Ipod armband, I started warming up in the elevator, rotating my arms and stretching my legs.

The doors opened and I started with a light jog out the front door and toward Brandon who was facing away from me, waving at someone down the black. He turned the last minute as I ran pass, slipping a 'You owe me a hundred' to him before racing down the street, his laughter trailing behind me.

Reaching Barnum Park, I was saddened to see that none of the players from the baseball game earlier were still here. Not that I expected that much, it was over three hours ago. Still, it would have been nice to meet the pitcher. Ignoring the baseball field, I started on the jogger's path, the volume of my Ipod tuning everything out.

I fell into my usual pattern, the years of ROTC in high school paying off. They had taught me an interesting trick while I was enrolled in the program. Marching cadences keep everyone in tune and at an even pace. It also gave you the ability to run for great distances without tiring yourself out. It's been years since I've really had to think about it but I knew it had to do with your breathing and your gait.

After two hours and seven female joggers' numbers later, I was finished with my run, resting on a bench in one of the more secluded parts of the park, eating my lunch provided by Subway. This particular path was a break off from the public one, seldom used because of all the slopes and inclines, not to mention foliage surrounding the path. If anything it was ignored for fear that something or someone could be lurking in the bushes, which is why men were usually the only ones who took this route. I had seen few women come down this trail in the past and more often than not they were escorted by a male companion or with their very own 'Luka' running at their side.

This morning I had only encountered one other person using this trail, so it was relatively quiet. The Ipod had helped block out the two fire engines that had raced by on Cline Avenue and the screaming child that had fallen off his tricycle while the babysitter tended to his scraped knee. Now the ear buds hung loosely from my ears, Vitamin String Quartet's melody playing softly over the speakers.

An abrupt bark from behind me caused me to jump slightly, my concentration so intense that I ended up dropping my sandwich on the ground. Luckily I had the sense of mind to keep it slightly wrapped so it wasn't dirty. I bent down to pick it up when a dark brown blur flashed out from underneath the bench, snatching the sandwich.

"Damn it." I twirled around, witnessing the deep brindle dog making a beeline for the bushes. He paused right before the shrubby, looking back at me, my Italian BMT handing out his mouth.

He was a medium sized dog, his shoulders looking to pass my knee by at least two or three inches. He was slightly skinny, obviously a stray living here in the park. His brindle coat pattern was dark, just a few shades from being completely black. His head was slightly blocky, the color around his face darker than the rest of his body. **[Link to pic of dog in a/n at end of chapter.]**

Light amber eyes watched intently, waiting maybe for me to give chase. I knew better; that sandwich was long gone. He knew it too as he calmly faced the bushes and melted into the branches. I watched the empty space with a scowl before giving a frustrated sigh.

"Damn dogs."

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**Okay, there you go. I did give a shout out to Mrs Edward_Cullen3 by using her name. That was for you Briana! Okay links to the pictures of the dogs mentioned. First we have Luka-www(dot)freewebs(dot)com/loyalheart/corso4(dot)jpg. That is what Luka looks like. Edward doesn't know his dogs but I do. Luka is a cane corso mastiff. They originate from Italy and are used as a big game hunter, cattle drover, and both livestock/home guardian.**

**As for the Subway dog, I had some trouble picking the right pictures so here we go. He's a mixed breed so bear with me as I try to explain what he looks like. His head-network(dot)bestfriends(dot)org/files/media/image/bully%20brindle(dot)jpg. This is what his body would look like-www(dot)greatdogsite(dot)com/admin/uploaded _files/1191990676Rhodesian_ridgeback(dot)jpg. And his coat pattern with his color-www(dot)sovranacanecorso(dot)com/sabfront8(dot)18(dot)JPG. Yes, more cane corsi but this one is strictly for the color scheme. So hopefully you can see what I see. Thank you to those who took the time to look those up. Took me forever to choose the right pictures. Anyway, please review and tell me what you think! Thank you Carrie for being my Beta. Love, Mez **


	5. Insight

**Hello People!! Sorry about the long update. This was actually done a few weeks ago but Carrie was busy doing her thing but it's all good. She delivered me the finished chapter and here it is! In this chapter we seea glimpse of the 'real' Edward. Keep your eye out! I dedicate this chapter to both Carrie and Raven of EDC at the Twilight Lexicon. Love you guys! **

**Disclamier: **Nada

**Beta: **urcoolcarrie AKA Carrie

* * *

Returning from my run, I walked back to the apartment, my legs too sore to do anything more than a light jog, and my stomach still hollow. Stupid dog. That was a good sandwich too. My lip curled at the thought. For some reason fate had it in for me as a high pitched yelping pierced my consciousness; my head turned to look down to my left.

A yapping beanie baby. I repressed a shudder and the sudden urge to grimace. Ugh, Yorkshire terriers.

"Oh I'm sorry!"

Tan legs appeared next to the little rat, and I followed them all the way up to the owner. Black hair, green eyes like my own, and an oval shaped face. Her widow's peak fit her perfectly. Her pupils dilated and I had to suppress the automatic grin that followed when catching a woman's eye. I couldn't allow myself that. Not with a woman who owned a dog.

"Hi I'm Raven," she chirped, her smile wide and suggestive. I almost gave in but then the dog started yapping again, thus reinforcing my objective. Must. Resist. However, looking at those legs and curves were really testing me.

"It's no problem. I'm Edward," I smiled, the 'Panty-Dropper' grin graced my lips no matter how hard I tried. From ground level, the savage beast was still barking at me, hopping an inch in the air every time it let out a yap.

"Sorry, Augustus is quite the trash-talker but I love him," Raven was smiling, her words about the dog at her feet but her mind else where. By the way she was eyeing me, I nearly guaranteed she was raping me in her mind. Maybe…

And then another round of obnoxious barking. Never mind.

"Yes, he's quite the talker," I added. Her smile got wider and I feared I had encouraged her too much. Time for a quick getaway. "Have a good day," I dismissed, walking away before her body won out over her dog.

Yes, Yorkies were high on the 'Ankle-Biters' list. Let me share the top five, in no specific order as they all have their downfalls. The others would be Pomeranians, Poodles, Chihuahuas(the original ankle-biters), and that one all white dog. What's its name? Something about being from the west highlands and white? Either way, they were in my 'Ankle-Biters' category.

Now, the 'I'm-Going-to-Die-So-I-Better-Stay-Away-From-These-Ladies' list had the usual suspects. Rottweilers, German Shepherds, Dobermans, Pit bulls-those types of breeds. And now adding to the list, my best friend Luka. Any woman owning these dogs I tended to stay away from as I would love not to die. I had dated one woman who owned a Doberman and I swear I almost lost the family jewels that night. I shuddered. Nope, never again.

All dog owners in general fell into the 'Women I Try Not to Date' section. There were few women in this category to begin with, but women with dogs were automatically filed here.

"Good afternoon Mr. Cullen!" greeted a voice. I looked up to see Joel Lovato, the new doorman that had been hired a few months ago. Guess I had zoned out and reached my apartment without my knowledge.

"Good afternoon to you too Joel" I replied, waving at him as I made my way into the lobby. Seeing Joel as doorman was picking at the back of my mind. There was something bothering me about that. For now I'll put it on the back burner. Rushing back to my apartment, I peeled off my running outfit and opted for a hot shower. I certainly wasn't a fan of sticky clothes.

Forty minutes later, I was dressed in blue jeans and a Matt Holiday Rockies jersey, before his trade, sucking down a glass of water in my kitchen. Washing the cup and putting it away, I stood by my window, cars and pedestrians covering the streets and sidewalks, contemplating whether or not I should call Heather when I realized what was bothering me about Joel being the doorman. I grabbed a light jacket from the hall closet before making another trip to the elevators.

Walking through the lobby toward the front doors, I spotted him talking to Ms. Cope from two floors down. She headed off toward the park, leaving Joel waltzing back and forth in front of the doors, waving at random people. I had just walked out of the building when he spotted me out the corner of his eye.

"Hello, there again Mr. Cullen. You need anything?" he asked, smile in place. Joel was such a laid back individual. He could make you comfortable with just a few words.

"Actually yeah, Joel. Do you know where Aiden's at? I was certain he was scheduled to work this afternoon," I inquired, my eyebrows furrowed. I was so sure that today Aiden was suppose to be working the day shift while another doorman, Alex Moore, would be in for the evening shift.

"He had a family emergency today and requested it off. Remember?" he clarified for me, his tone calm.

"Oh. _Oh_," I spoke again, remembering what today was. Abigail. She had had a doctor's appointment at one. Checking my watch, the arms told me it was three twenty-eight. "I see."

Joel nodded and kept watch as I strolled past him to enter the building again. I paused right before the lobby, my hand on the door handle. I faced around to Joel, keeping my voice casual. "Do you happen to know what hospital?"

Joel looked back at me over his shoulder. He nodded in understanding. "Harrison's Pediatric Center over on twenty-eighth and Morrison Road."

I nodded, turning away and entering the building. I wonder what was going on. I really wanted to see how she was doing. I'd met her a few times whenever Abigail's friend's mother dropped her off. She had short, curly pale blonde hair with light brown eyes. She was tiny for her age, but she was smart, always reading past her grade level. Aiden would always bringing up her academic accomplishments from English class. I really hoped nothing had gone wrong at her appointment.

I'd have to get in contact with Aiden for that. Does Aiden own a cell phone? The answer was immediate as I had seen him use it numerous times in the past. But how to get the number? Hmm…

My gaze swept over the lobby. Tables stacked with various magazines, the blue couches formed in a loose square, the blonde receptionist typing on her computer, the fish tank in the corn-! Bingo. My gaze locked onto the young woman. It was as if she could feel my staring; looking up before hastily shifting her eyes back to her keyboard, a slight pink splashing across her cheeks. Time to use my God given talent.

Sauntering up to the counter, I folded my arms on the granite, my disarming smile in place. She looked up at me, her eyes widening, her blush growing.

"How can I help you, Mr. Cullen?" she asked, one corner of her mouth turning up in a sly smile. Hmm…was she trying to dazzle _me_? Hardly. You can't dazzle the master.

I turned my smile up a notch and I could hear the small intake of breath as her eyes grew wide.

"You certainly can help me, Kalee," I chirped, reading her name tag. "I was actually wondering if you happened to have Aiden's cell phone number?"

She gave a sheepish smile, her gray eyes displaying her apology. "I'm sorry Mr. Cullen, but I can't giv-"

Before she finished speaking I reached out and stroked the skin under her eye, my touch feathery light. "You have rings under your eyes. You must be having trouble sleeping. Hmm…maybe I can find some way to help you with that. Oh, and look at that!" I paused for effect. Poor girl, her eyes were already glazed over.

To make my point, I leaned closer across the counter and stopped about five inches away from her face, my breath fanning across her face. Her skin grew hot under my fingertips and she gave a silent gasp.

"Your eyes have flecks of blue in them," I murmured. Resisting the smile threatening to spread on my face, I pulled back from her, admiring my handiwork. She seemed paralyzed, her mouth slightly agape.

"So, do you happen to have Aiden's cell phone number?" I asked softly, my smile feigning innocence. She seemed lost as she scrambled for a black folder under her desk, producing it with a flourish. Never taking her eyes off me she grabbed the first writing utensil she could find and quickly scribbled the number on a sticky note.

"He-here," she stammered, her face ablaze and cherry red. I took it from her, letting my finger graze her hand very lightly, almost if by accident.

"Thank you Kalee, you've been a big help," I winked and walked away from the counter, heading back outside.

"Hey Joel…" I started but he just laughed and opened the door to the cab that was stationed on the curb.

"Here you are Mr. Cullen," he smiled and waved his hand as if revealing a game show prize. I nodded to him, clapped his shoulder, and sat down in the cab, Joel closing the door behind me. Telling the cabbie my destination, I took out my own cell phone, dialing the number on the paper. It ringed three times before Aiden's voice spoke through the small speaker.

"Hello?"

Of course my phone number probably showed as unknown on his caller id. The tone of his greeting alerted me. It was very worn and strained. My stomach tightened. Abigail. Clearing my throat, I answered, "Hey Aiden, it's Edward."

"Oh! Mr. Cullen! Hello," his voice thoroughly surprised, rising to a cheery shade of salutation.

"Call me Edward. Listen, are you at Harrison's Pediatric?"

There was a slight pause when I asked. But then I could hear the defeated sigh over the speaker.

"Yeah. Mr. Cul-Edward. I am,"

Hearing his tone invoked the worst case scenario to blossom in my head. I envisioned little Abigail, colored a deathly pale, in a white bed with tubes connected to her in various areas, all attached to bulky machinery, Aiden sitting next to her bed, his head in his hands.

"I'm on my way."

"Wait, Mr. Cullen-" I snapped the phone shut, not letting him protest. I was going to that hospital to help, whether he wanted it or not.

* * *

"You really didn't have to come."

Aiden's face was laced with worry and embarrassment. When I arrived at Harrison's Pediatric, Aiden was waiting outside, wearing a simple black jacket and black slacks, wringing the baseball cap in his hands repeatedly. He was still shocked I had come to the hospital to check on them both.

"Come on. This way," he waved his hand before turning back around and entering the building, with me two seconds behind him. Leading into the hospital lobby, we passed a rather large receptionist' deck, two blonde ladies and a black haired man stationed behind the granite top.

Turning left, we walked down a long corridor, mindful of the rolling beds holding patients and the doctors that hurried to their destinations.

Seven minutes and an elevator ride later, we were walking through the fourth floor of the hospital, rooms filled with various children of all ages, some with their parents or friends. One held a small girl, maybe seven, looking out her window, no parents in sight, the haunting beep of a heart monitor in the background. A chill ran down my spine and I continued walking behind Aiden, nearly bumping into him when he stopped outside a room. Abigail Kramer, read the name plate next to the door. He paused to look back at me before knocking gently on her door.

"Abigail, you have a visitor," announced Aiden, opening the door slowly. The hospital room was quiet, the blinds on the windows open, letting in the light from the sun still high in the sky.

"Who is it Dad?" asked the fair-haired girl sitting in the center of her bed with a book in her lap. Almond eyes zeroed in on me as I walked in, and I could see the flash of recognition.

"Oh, Mr. Cullen? Good afternoon. How are you?" asked Abigail, closing her thick book and placing it next to her on a stand, ever so polite. My eyes trailed the IV that was embedded in her hand to the tower holding her fluid bag tucked up against the wall.

Oh Abigail. She had also grown some since I had last seen her. Her cheeks were more pronounced, having lost a bit of baby fat. Her hair had lengthened considerably. What was once short and shoulder length was now woven into a braid over her shoulder, reaching her elbows. She was growing into a teenager, and with the things progressing as they looked, Aiden would need some help beating the boys back in the near future.

"Good afternoon to you as well Abigail. I'm good. How have you been?" I asked. It was an awkward question in view of where she currently was but it flowed with the conversation. Abigail seemed to get the idea, all things considering.

"Meh," she replied with a shrug and smile. Like being in the hospital was no big deal. I laughed. Well, her humor hadn't really changed since our last meeting. Aiden sat down in the chair next to her bed and I took the chair just to the left, across from her. I gestured to the closed book on her stand, "That one any good?"

Abigail turned back around and lifted the book for me to see the title and cover. The book jacket illustrated, probably using a macro lens, the left side of a woman's face, her gray eye looking back at me. The picture itself was innocent enough except for the eerie silver luminous ring encircling the woman's pupil, giving it the feeling of the supernatural.

Abigail noticed my scrutiny and laughed, placing it back on the stand. "Looks good, doesn't?" she teased, her eyebrow quirking.

I rolled my eyes and answered her with a nod, "You're almost done, I presume?" It was a stupid question to ask Abigail. It wouldn't have applied to anyone else except her.

She noticed too. "But of course. Dad caught me reading the other night at three in the morning." I looked over at Aiden and saw him smile at his daughter.

Now, time to get down to business. Taking a quick peek at the equipment hooked into Abigail, I figured the 'check up' had turned into something much more. The tightening in my stomach reminded me of its emptiness, and I found the perfect opportunity to speak with Aiden.

"So, Abigail, I didn't eat lunch today. Is the cafeteria food any good?" I asked, standing up and patting my stomach. Aiden's eyebrows furrowed as he watched me, no doubt wondering why I wanted food at a time like this.

Abigail made a face, but just shrugged her shoulders, "Well, I'm not sure about the cafeteria food but the food they bring me is pretty good. Maybe you'll get lucky and get something edible."

I nodded. "Thanks. I'm too hungry to be picky so we'll see how that goes. Aiden, can you show me where it's at?"

Aiden's face held a frown but he stood up as well, following slowly as we headed towards the door. "I'll be back in a little bit, sweetheart. Make sure you call the nurse if you need anything," he advised, satisfied when Abigail nodded her head.

"Of course Daddy."

Closing the door to Abigail's room quietly, Aiden didn't say much as he led me back to the elevator and first floor. In the time it took us to reach the cafeteria, Aiden and I didn't speak to each other. Only when we were both seated at a table, a sub sandwich with a bottle of water in front of me, did I dare speak. "What happened?"

Aiden was gripping his hat again, taking a deep breath before letting it out in the form of a sigh. Looking up at me, he seemed to hesitate but then whispered, "Reye's Syndrome."

* * *

**Yay for chapter 3!!! Anyone wanna guess the title of Abigail's book? Hahaha...Okay. Now I know most of you will immediately google 'Reye's Syndrome' after reading that so I'll save you the trouble and post it here. Or you can wait for the next chapter as Aiden will explain for our dear Edward. But I strongly doubt anyone will choose that option. So this is from Wikipedia...****Reye's syndrome** is a potentially fatal disease that causes numerous detrimental effects to many organs, especially the brain and liver, as well as causing hypoglycemia.[1] The exact cause is unknown, and while it has been associated with aspirin consumption by children with viral illness, it also occurs in the absence of aspirin use. The disease causes fatty liver with minimal inflammation and severe encephalopathy (with swelling of the brain). The liver may become slightly enlarged and firm, and there is a change in the appearance of the kidneys. Jaundice is not usually present.[2] Early diagnosis is vital; while most children recover with supportive therapy, severe brain injury or death are potential complications.

**So there you go. Just a short explaination about Reye's Syndrome but if you want a more complex answer, feel free to look it up yourself. I'm no doctor so when I describe Abigail's illness, it would be as scientific as it could be. **

**There you are people! Chapter three. Opinions? Suggestions? Threats? Leave me a review! -Love Mez**


	6. Underneath It All

**Hello! Sorry I haven't updated anything in a long long while, but I promise you this chapter is well worth the wait! Thank you Carrie for being my beta! Now, enough of this dilly-dally, let's get to it!**

**DISCLAIMER:** I do not own or will I ever own the Twilight saga and its characters. So sad.

**Beta: **urcoolcarrie AKA Carrie

* * *

"Reye's Syndrome?"

This was a sickness I'd never heard of. In my childhood and adolescent years, Dad would come home from the hospital, talking about the various stories of the operations he was involved in or the amount of illnesses there were in the world. There had been a time when I wanted to pursue his same career choice. I had read about various diseases but I had never heard of this type.

"Yes, the doctors explained it to me," spoke Aiden, his hands resting on the top of the table. "Simply, it's a sickness that causes certain effects to several organs in the body, especially the liver and brain. It can also cause something called Hypoglycemia. The exact causes are unknown still but they think it's triggered by giving children, who have a viral illness or are recovering from one, aspirin or aspirin products." Aiden paused, giving me time to take two bites of my sandwich before he started once again, this time his voice soft and subdued.

"About four weeks ago Abigail had a cold lasting for about a week and a half. A couple of days after the cold, she was complaining about headaches, very minor but she still had a light fever from her cold. What could I do?" pleaded Aiden.

Setting my half eaten sandwich aside, I knew from his tone of voice where this was going. I paused, letting him continue if he wished but after a minute of silence I took the lead, "You gave her aspirin?"

A breath Aiden seemed to have been holding in was let out with a 'whoosh' as he dropped his hands against the table with a thud. "It was half a pill, but two days later she had another headache, so I gave her the other half. It wasn't much, but doctors say that's all it takes." Aiden slouched further into his seat before lying his head on the table top.

"Soon, she started throwing up. And not just a little bit every other day, but around three times a day, all very heavy. She'd get confused when reading, asking me the definitions to words that she already knew. The worst was the nightmares. There were two a week that would cause her to cry out at night," whispered Aiden, his shouldered quivering.

No longer interested in my sandwich, I gave a long look at Aiden, sorting through the questions I had for him.

"So, just how bad is Abigail? Is it fatal?" Great job Edward! That's an opener.

His shoulders heaved and he sat back up, his face more composed. "The doctors were throwing the words 'coma' and 'death' around but with this illness, it has four stages. Abigail has just entered the second stage. The doctors are enthusiastic about her recovery and say she'll be fine in a few weeks, maybe a month or two. They say I brought her in on time. But really, my mistake caused all of this."

He was quiet and I had one more question to ask. I was slightly anxious about this one. But I wouldn't know if I didn't ask. "How much?"

He perked his head up, eyes slightly guarded. "I'll have to take up some extra hours at work, sell a few things, not too bad."

I had my suspicions that it was much worse than that, but I knew I wouldn't get anything more out of Aiden. Wrapping my sandwich up, I rose to my feet, Aiden following. "Let's get back upstairs to Abigail."

Saying bye to Abigail and Aiden, I closed the door behind me, standing in the hallway outside her room. Abigail had been in high spirits, dinner was to be served in a couple hours and then visiting hours would be up. Best that they spend as much time together as possible.

"Edward?"

My head snapped up and I turned around. Eric Yorkie was standing behind me, sporting the classical trademark white coat and stethoscope of a doctor. His wife worked in my building. I had met him a little more than a year ago at the annual company dinner. I smiled at him, walking over to shake hands.

"It's been a while Edward. How are things at the office?" asked Eric, giving me a sincere smile.

"Not too bad. I was just visiting a friend and his daughter," I mentioned, motioning to Abigail's door.

"Oh. Glad we got to her in time. It could have been much worse," spoke Eric, his voice filled with concern.

"She going to make it?"

Eric began walking slowly away from the door and I followed after him. There was one question I was itching to ask.

"She'll be fine. Like I said, we got to her in time. She'll need to spend a few weeks here—maybe even a couple of months—but she should recover quite well."

I was happy to know this, but I still had my suspicions about just how hard the hospital bill would be on Aiden.

"Just how much is this all going to cost that family?"

Eric slowed down and then stopped, eyes slightly guarded. He glanced at me, taking a deep breath. "At the least, ten thousand dollars."

My mouth set in a hard line. There was no way Aiden would be able to afford all that. But was that the whole bill?

"Is it ten thousand as of right now or is that the complete bill?"

Eric seemed uncomfortable, his eyes drifting from my face. Another deep breath before he could speak. "It's just an estimate. It all depends on how long she'll stay here. But she looks good, her recovery is faster than we anticipated, so I would say within two weeks, maybe three."

My mind started calculating the amount that this would all end up, and I knew Aiden would have some serious trouble.

"Hmm…I see. Thanks. Listen Eric, I've got to run but you have a good day and hopefully I'll see you at the company dinner?" I asked, zipping up my jacket and inching down the hall toward the elevators. Eric nodded and waved as I turned away from him.

Passing by other nurses and a few doctors made me wonder what my dad, Carlisle, would say about this illness. I'd never heard of it so it must be rare or there aren't many cases on file.

Getting closer to the nurses' station, an idea was born in my mind but I would need to be extremely sneaky to make it possible. Steering away from my original path, I stopped at the counter of the nurses' station , letting my presence slowly be known.

The tall red head writing a note in a folder over by the wall of files took notice first. She looked up quickly-meant to be a cursory glance that turned into a double take-a friendly smile erupting on her lips. She hastily finished her note, slipping it into what I would hope was the correct place before walking over to me.

"Hi, may I help you?"

Swiftly reading the name 'Elise' on her name tag, I flashed her my most polite smile, before asking if the Chief Director of Finance was available. Elise gave a grin and turned away from me, picking up the phone from its cradle and dialing a few numbers. While she talked on the phone, I looked at the clock hanging above the wall of files. 4:22. I had roughly half an hour before visiting hours would be done. If I could talk to the Director about my idea, then all would be in place.

"Excuse me?"

I turned my head to the voice and saw Elise standing next to me, her red lips curved back in a smile. "He'll be right down."

Perfect.

Two and a half hours later, I was sitting in the Volvo, cell phone pressed to my ear, engine idling, while Derek Logan's business card was twirling between my fingers. I had just finished having a talk with the manager of my bank and, as I had predicted, everything was in place for Aiden.

Now, waiting in the bank parking lot for Mr. Logan to answer his phone, rain starting to fall more heavily outside my windshield and skies darkening, I remembered the conversation we had at the hospital right after my visit.

_Waiting for roughly five minutes after Elise's phone call, a man dress in a dark navy suit approached me at the nurses' station, hand stretched out as a greeting. He was tall, about the same height as my 6'2", with dark hair and wire rimed glasses, giving him the air of sophistication. _

"_Mr. Cullen, I presume? I'm Derek Logan, Chief Director of Finances. How are you?"_

"_Good, thank you for asking. I'd like to discuss something with you, Mr. Logan. Is there somewhere we could talk?" I had asked. Best not to get caught by Aiden before I had everything set up._

"_Of course," Mr. Logan had gushed, steering me away into a office area. After fifteen minutes of explaining my plan to him, he was willing to comply and work with me to make this happen. We stood up, shook hands, and parted ways, but before I had left the room, Mr. Logan had given me his business card so I could call and set up everything on his end._

After leaving the hospital, I had gone back to my apartment to fetch my Volvo, as I didn't want to keep calling for a cab, and blazed on over to my bank before they closed for the day.

So now, after talking with my bank manager, all the correct funds were ready for anything that might happen in the next two months. I knew Aiden would find out about this as soon as he tried to pay for Abigail's bill, and I was hoping he wouldn't be upset about it.

"This is Derek Logan speaking. What can I do for you?"

"Hello, Mr. Logan, this is Edward Cullen, we spoke early today."

"Oh yes, Mr. Cullen. I'm assuming everything went well?"

Resting my head against the seat, a smile twitched at my lips and I let out a chuckle of contentment. "Everything went just fine. I have both the account number and routing number with me at this moment if you'd like them."

"Of course, just give me a minute to find some paper and pencil." I could hear rustling and a light scrapping of a chair against the floor. It was quiet for a few seconds before his voice returned.

"Alright, I'm ready Edward. What are the numbers?"

Reciting the digits to him, I felt a sense of accomplishment. I was happy to do this for Aiden and Abigail. Aiden had worked at my building for years now and it felt right to give him this.

"Well, alright then Edward. Everything is set up and we should have no problems on this end. I must say this is quite a good deed to do for this family."

Mr. Logan's voice brought me back to the conversation and I smiled."He deserves this," was my answer.

Snapping my phone shut, I had to sit for a few minutes, letting it soak in. Aiden really did deserve this. Not the part with his daughter getting sick, but to have the stability to pay for her stay was important. Even if the doormen at my building were paid fairly well, something like a hospital stay, especially one as long as possibly two months, wouldn't be covered with the salary they had.

Starting the car, I debated on what to eat for dinner. I could go home and make some Chicken Florentine and Farfalle or go out to eat somewhere.

Deciding on the Bertolli, I exited the bank parking lot and headed down Grove Road, a back street that hugged the curves of a river. Taking this for about another mile would deposit me right before the main highway and then only ten minutes away from my apartment.

On my left I could make out Rude Hill Park. Ah, such fond memories. Rude Hill was stationed on the top of a large, you guessed it, hill; the playground being on the very top while all down hill was grass, a few baseball fields, and then more grass. Trees were everywhere and I enjoyed watching the baseball games on Saturdays, mostly all middle school or high school ages. Seeing those kids play something they loved was incredible, and there were times when I was on my feet shouting encouragements for whichever team I felt deserved the win. I haven't done that in years.

The loud screeching of tires and honking shocked me violently out of my reverie and I whipped my head to my left, just entering the small intersection as I had the right of way, twin headlights barreling toward me.

Interesting thing about Rude Hill Park were the stories of people coming down too fast on the two streets running parallel with the slope and not being able to stop, thus launching themselves into the river beyond the guardrails.

I knew never to race down streets of that caliber at any speed more than twenty miles an hour but that didn't stop the large truck from slamming into my door, the metal crumbling, glass shattering and slashing along the left side of my face and neck, causing me to slam sideways into the passenger seat but having to crash back against my own chair when the seat belt sensed the impact and tightened its hold on my chest, constricting my torso in a painful way.

Knowing what not to do didn't stop my Volvo from high vaulting over the guardrails and pretty soon everything was eerily quiet, but it all ended when the thundering boom sounded in my ears, the sudden impact from the front of the car causing me to slam once again against my locked seat belt, whipping my head forward, my neck suddenly alit with pain and my forehead smacking the steering wheel with a sickening wet sound.

Shortly after, all I could hear was screaming and the noisy blaring of my horn. A sweet smell filled the car and all too soon a rivulet of dark liquid followed the trace of my nose and dripped onto my steering wheel. The was a small motion that was causing my car to rock slowly back and forth. In my current state I couldn't understand what was making my vehicle sway, but the sudden sound of rushingwater and the freezing temperature that was biting at my feet and slowly rising up my legs shocked my mind awake and I knew river water was flowing into the car.

Not long now. Looking out of my broken window, the raindrops were starting to let up and the sky lighted just a bit. Humorlessly, it almost seemed like the rain knew it had done its job and was leaving.

Doing a quick inventory, I noted the pain in both my neck and nearly entire torso, the splitting headache pulsating with more tenacity, and I knew my head was colored in red liquid. Looking down, a single drop from my nose fell into the water that was starting to reach the tops of my thighs, a red flower of blood blossoming as another droplet joined in.

For some reason, a voice slipped into my consciousness and it started singing to me, the pain lessening with each word.

_I was so happy when you smiled. Your smile breaks through the clouds of grey. Far from the sunny days that lie in sleep._

The shouting from the street was louder now, more persistent, and all I wanted was for them to be quiet so I could fall asleep to the angel in my mind.

_Waiting with patience for the spring, when the flowers will bloom renewed again, knowing there's more beyond the pain of today._

Someone shouted from above me, louder than the rest, and soon I could hear sirens in the background. A loud splash from outside did little to rouse me, even though I knew someone was coming for me.

_Although the scars of yesterday remain, you can go on living as much as your heart believes._

"Hey, hey sir. You alive?"

_You can't be born again, although you can change._

Turning to the voice, I had just a few moments before the darkness would descend and I needed to finish this song.

"Let's stay together always."

A loud, terrifying crash of lighting and thunder roared from above us, but all I could see was a flash of chestnut hair, full red lips, heart shaped face, and eyes the color of warm chocolate before the darkness swallowed me.

* * *

**So? Was that good? Do you hate me now because of that cliff hanger? Let me know! I enjoyhearing feedback. So drop a review about your feeling on this story! Till next time! Love Mez!**


	7. IMPORTANT AUTHOR NOTE

**ADOPTION NOTICE!**

Well, party people, it's true, I've decided to put my stories up for adoption. It's very sad but I know my limits and I know I've reached my limit. So I'm thinking that all my stories will be put up for adoption. I do have a few ideas that can be used that I haven't released. So ask what you are looking for and I'll see if it matching but also I can make up ideas on the spot so if you're ever stuck with your stories I can try to help.

If you're interested in adopting any of the stories that are available, please pm me a request and I will then discuss with you the possibility of taking over the story in question.

But I will not take this lightly. I will be looking at your profile, your stories, and who your beta's are if you have any.

One condition will be to have at least published five (successful) stories. The only exemptions from this condition would be that if you do have less than five, I will be seeing if those were successful and if they are completed. There are other conditions but this is one of the big ones.

So good luck to those of you who do wish to apply and know this as well, I will be going by gut instinct to boot. I know it sounds like I'm being a pain but I love my stories and the ideas I have for them. Any serious writers would feel this way.

-Meztli


	8. Announcement

Sorry to all those who have alerted and followed me. I'm going to be deleting my stories at some point in the coming days. Just wanted to give people a heads up. I apologize if you have been waiting for me to updated but it won't happen. I'm deeply sorry...Mez


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